Saturday, March 19, 2011

When I went to D.C., the problems I'd had in Wenatchee didn't return. I never had the kind of problems there, at all. But at some point, when I had some individuals at this pub who suddenly wanted me to sound crazy again, which was after I was pregnant, someone used some kind of technology against me, while I was pregnant and known to be pregnant, and living in an apartment on the 7th floor (I believe) in Arlington, VA.

I had a view of The Pentagon. Actually, an excellent view of The Pentagon.

This was the apartment I had with a large window that looked out over Virginia and then across to The Pentagon.

I was 3 months pregnant and raised my head from the couch, where I was napping, to one afternoon find a helicopter just a few feet away from my window. I am not kidding. I had men in a helicopter going right up to the window and then they were close enough for me to see they were looking in at me and laughed when I raised my head. I didn't react and laid my head down again. It wasn't a dream. I hadn't been asleep and was only able to rest and I was awake when I looked up and saw this.

This may be totally unrelated to the torture but what I would describe as torture while I was pregnant, was one day when my roommate was home, all night, and whenever he was there, I was having an overheating and buzzing kind of feeling and then my back would hurt. It only happened when he was there but I don't know if he caused it. He always stayed in the room next door and he was from Morocco originally. He knew Arabic and English and was Muslim and we had this odd moment when I was talking to this Israeli government man (D.) while sitting on the couch next to the Muslim guy and they got into an argument over the phone.

At first, I had no problems at all there. Then later, torwards the end of my tenancy there, I had these problems, which concerned me because I wondered how it might affect my baby.

At the same time, I had telecommunications problems and couldn't get prenatal care in a timely manner even though I was calling to make an appointment the same week I found out I was pregnant.

I kept trying to make an appointment and there were people obstructing me from getting prenatal care. Finally, after having all these people cancel and say I wasn't scheduled after I had been scheduled, or tell me I was on the end of the waiting list all over again, finally, I had an appointment months later, and this was after I had gone to the ER with some problems and been ignored in Falls Church (I believe it was that hospital in Falls Church). When I finally had an appointment, the nurses and doctors were all military connected.

Then, right about the time this housemate was possibly involved in torturing me, he started joking with others that I was "insane". I didn't really think he could be bad because he had told me not to drink Red Bull while I was pregnant. But then I don't know if he started joking about insane because he wanted to discredit me in case I talked about something.

He had a substance with him (atypical one and I don't care to describe it) that I never took but I didn't care to report anything because it didn't matter to me and there are worse things--like public officials who kidnapped my son and put me in jail on illegal auspices. I also had a weird feeling that he might be on a side that I didn't know about and trying to test me, whether I would take something or not (I never did).

I guess someone might ask why I just laid my head back down when I saw a helicopter with a bunch of men staring at me, at my window. My attitude was: So what.

There were no blinds on the windows and the windows were huge. It's not like I could get up and close the blinds or curtains. I wasn't going to leave the apartment and the windows showed the whole living room space and kitchen. I slept on the couch in the livingroom, and I did not go in the other room, which my housemate had (whom I was never connected to intimately). I was resting while pregnant. What was I going to do? Wave?

So I just thought, "Oh my gosh, what are they doing?" and I put my head back down and waited for them to go away and later got up and went about my business.

It had to be military. No one else could get clearance to get that close to an apartment like that. Just like, in my opinion, no one could get clearance to fly a jet plane over Seattle as low as it was flying on one of the nights I was poisoned with a poisoned cigarette.

There were at least 2 men but I think more than 2. I want to say at least 3 men but maybe up to even 4. It was a group of them.

When a helicopter came over to my house in East Wenatchee when I had my son with me, it was only 1 man. I was taking my son to our car to fasten him into his childseat. It was before I went to Canada of course. He got his helicopter close enough to me that I could see his expression.

At the same time there was technology stuff when I was pregnant with my twins, the t.v. was acting up. It was doing really weird things with the screen getting fuzzy and then fragmented but clearly because of some kind of interference with a technology of some kind. It wasn't the channel or like the station had problems and it wasn't an old t.v.

This same thing happened to the T.V. in my room when I lived at Steve Mays place in Wenatchee, WA.

As I have been writing this, there has been other technology and I had someone say satellite. I sort of trust the person. Recently, however, even if part of it is satellite, some of it has to be faciliated or observed locally because it's too location specific.

I need information, if possible, that indicates some of the source and motive.

Documentation, if anyone can get their hands on it, would be helpful. If anything is in writing, and could be copied or stolen, to help prove this, that would be huge. If anything is recorded in a kind of surveillance, that would also be good.

About Me

this is a blog about my life and thoughts on: clergy abuse (Mt. Angel Abbey); defamation by press (Willamette Week); freedom of speech; abuse of government powers; religion, and other social issues; and the art & humor in routine life; and is dedicated to my son